


There, for you

by ADO



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU- Remus and Tonks were never together, AU-Remus and Sirius live, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, One Shot, Post-War, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADO/pseuds/ADO
Summary: They had met during the second war. Now the war is over and they are living at Grimmauld Place, trying to cope with the aftermath. Sleeplessness forces them to late nights in the Black library, and one night the comforting silence of the books just isn't enough.Update: At first this was a oneshot, but I decided to elaborate a bit on the story. We'll see how far it'll take us!





	1. In the library

The library smelled of the rain outside, the humid night air softly streaming through the darkened windows, and of wood crackling in the fireplace. He was sitting in the corner, legs crossed and a book in his lap. His finger lightly tapped the upper corner of the leather-bound book, then trailing over the frayed edge, almost lovingly as if savouring the feeling of having the knowledge of a thousand years right there in his hands. He had his head lightly cocked to one side so that half of his face disappeared in the darkness, the other half only illuminated by the flickering candles.

She watched him for a moment, standing in the doorway she had quietly crossed. He looked relaxed, then, when he sat there on the sofa next to window, completely immersed in one book or another. His face was so calm, so at peace, and she felt a slight stinging sensation inside of her, as always when she so suddenly remembered all that he had lived through, had been forced to live through. She knew he wanted to keep it all from them, from her, from Sirius, from Harry, but when he thought no one was looking his eyes became very dull, like dreary water. She knew that he sometimes woke up at night, like her, because he couldn’t sleep anymore, past memories haunting his dreams. They all had their nightmares.

But he was so soft, so calm, the calmest man she had ever met, and it pained her to know that she couldn’t take away those things that seemed to weigh him down. She wished she could lay her hands over his eyes, feel his pulse under her touch, draw out the self-loathing, the guilt, the helplessness that he felt. Maybe that was just her way to deal with things- turn to others instead to herself. But during the war, they had become so close, a friendship of some kind blossoming between two lone souls, and she seemed to care about him more than about the others. It was because they had spent so much time together, she guessed, so many missions for the Order, so many nights planning and plotting, so much time sitting in the kitchen and talking. He was lovely company. And she couldn’t help but think that he thought the same about her- he always seemed to be near her, always answering to her when no one else did, or the way he remembered her favourite tea, serving it with a piece of chocolate, or the way he smiled a warm, genuine smile when she entered the room.

He smiled the same smile now when she came further into the room, head lifting and dark eyes looking up at her. She wrapped her knitted cardigan closer around her body as she was only wearing a nightshirt underneath and fuzzy socks, and came up to him.

“Can’t sleep?”, he asked softly, and she shook her head. She sat next to him on the sofa, pulling a pillow into her lap.

“I found the perfect antidote”, he said and closed his book, “just read until your eyes are so tired that you can’t see anymore.”

She laughed.

“Reading until utter exhaustion. I’ll remember that.”

She leaned back into the soft cushion and sighed.

“I wish I could sleep though. Just one good night’s sleep…”

He ran his hand through his messy hair and over his face, groaning quietly.

“Please, stop fantasizing or I’ll start too!”

She chuckled. It was still raining outside, the drops beating softly against the glass.

“What are you reading?”, she asked, leaning closer to him. He radiated heat, and she felt herself craving his nearness.

“Oh”, he turned the book over to reveal the cover, “I found it on the top shelf. Seems like the Black family's hatred of muggles doesn't extend to their library.”

She glanced at the title. _Magic and Witchcraft in Muggle Literature._

“Sounds interesting.”

He smiled, and again his fingers caressed fondly over the cover.

“Where is Sirius anyway?”, she asked. He pushed his sandy hair out of his eyes.

“Out with Harry, drinking I guess.”

She giggled.

“Well, good thing we’re not asleep yet. They wake the whole house anyway when they get home.”

He laughed, and she admired his smile. She looked at him long and hard while he stared into the fire, eyes darting all over his face, and she felt how tired she was, how heavy her eyelids were but still inside of her a dread raged, the dread of closing her eyes and lying down and living through everything again and again and again. More than once she had thought about doing a memory charm on herself, or to move to another country and to leave it all behind. But then they all came into her mind, eyes pleading, three men alone in that big house and, most of all, he, alone during full moons and no one to do his potions. And so she always convinced herself to stay and that she would get over it eventually, because they needed her, yes, she _was_ needed. It was reassuring to tell herself that, even though she wasn’t sure she fully believed it herself. Everything was so exhausting.

“I’m so tired, Remus”, she said suddenly, and sat up. He turned to her.

“Me too, believe me”, he answered slowly and rubbed his eyes.

“No”, she shook her head, “I mean I’m tired and I want to sleep, yes, but I’m so tired of feeling tired all the time, and always waking up and seeing them at the foot of my bed, and I’m tired of staying inside all of the time because I’m still scared, and I’m tired of being so lonely and sad and I’m-“

She was breathing heavily now, and she could tears feel prickling in her eyes, and swallowed.

“I’m tired of seeing all of us being so goddamn tired all the time, and you, and I wish could do something for you…”

She bit her lip to stop it from shaking and stared at her hands. She could feel him looking at her. He was moving next to her, slowly, the cushion sinking in, and then she felt herself being pulled into a hug. Her face pressed against his knitted sweater, his beard scratching the top of her forehead, and she hugged him back tightly, fingers sinking into his arms. He smelled of old books, of chocolate, he smelled like autumn felt, and the hug was good and warm and comforting. They stayed like that for a while. She could hear his heart beating slowly and felt herself calming down.

“I’m sorry”, she said then, and pulled away, “I’m bothering you with late night thoughts while you must be on edge because of the full moon tomorrow-“

“Don’t be ridiculous”, he interrupted her, “you are not bothering me at all. We’re all tired. It’s frustrating, I know. I guess we just have to hold onto each other and make it out together.”

She felt her lip trembling again, and he smiled a sympathetic smile.

“Now, now. Shall I fetch you some chocolate?”

She rolled her eyes and started laughing, despite the burning sadness in her throat.

“Oh Remus…”

He chuckled. She pulled her knees to her chest, and put her arms around her legs, laying her head on top.

“How are you feeling?”, she asked, looking him in the eyes. He shrugged.

“As always”, he answered, “a bit nervous, a bit wild. A rollercoaster, really.”

“Wild, huh? Have I ever met wild Remus?”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“You _wish_.”

She giggled and stretched out her legs again.

“I mean, I _could_ ask Sirius about it…”

He shook his head and grinned.

“Or is it you reading slightly more books than usual? Eating one chocolate bar extra? That would be extraordinarily wild, you know.”

He laughed.

“Or maybe I’m just staying up past midnight and talking to some very annoying person, like now.”

They laughed. He smiled at her when she playfully hit him, and once again they silently stared into the fire. He was the best silent company. There was no one she could better not talk to than him. They sat for a long time. When she glanced at the clock it said half past one.

“Again, thank you for making the potion”, he said.

She turned to him. He was looking at her with a very tender expression that made her heartbeat quicken, and she wondered if he could hear it. She knew his senses were better than hers, especially around the full moon.

“I swear if you thank me once more I won’t make it again”, she said, narrowing her eyes. He laughed a deep laugh, one that made the hairs in her neck stay up and that prickled in her ears.

“But really, thank you”, he sighed, “And I’m sorry you feel lonely. If I can help, please tell me.”

She pressed her lips together.

“You could hug me again?”

He pulled her to her again, chuckling quietly, and she felt his hand at the back of her head. His closeness was so consoling and comfortable, and she felt safe all wrapped up in his warmth. He laid his cheek on top on her head, and she exhaled long and heavily, as if something had been caught in her throat but she was slowly breathing it out. Here she was, in the middle of the night, once again trying to get herself together. Suddenly she laughed and pulled away, looking into his bewildered face.

“Can you believe we’re actually so sentimental?”

He smiled. He was so close that she could see the wrinkles around his eyes and the way they pulled together when he laughed. Her hands were resting just underneath his shoulders and she could feel them rise and fall with his steady breath. They looked at each other for a moment, and she felt so very grateful that he was there and that she was not alone and that he was so lovely and nice and kind. One finger found his way to his face and traced the scar on his left cheek, but he didn’t move. His eyes wandered over her face, all bare and flushed and naked, and it was then that she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth.

Her kiss was short, soft and sweet.

When she pulled away she saw that his eyes were closed, and only opened the fraction of a second later. She wasn’t sure if she’d gone too far and looked at him shyly, observing his expression. He looked surprised. They stood both still, bodies frozen. Then their eyes met again, and suddenly he lifted his head and their lips met again. It was a long kiss this time, full of need and desire, and she opened her mouth and felt his tongue on her lower lip, licking. She sighed and snuck her arms around his neck. His hands slid over her hips around her back, pulling her closer, and then she was straddling him, pressing against him. She breathed in his smell deeply, tasting him, sinking into him. His beard tickled her face but she didn’t care. Their kisses were heated now, soft and full of want, and she felt his arousal hot and hard against her bare leg.

She took off her cardigan, let it fall to the floor, and was left in her thin nightshirt. Her nipples hardened against the soft material, straining the cloth. He traced her naked shoulders, rough fingers against her smooth skin, and suddenly he pulled away. The candlelight glimmered in his face, brows furrowed. She could see the concern in his eyes, all the questions and possible regrets and she sighed. With a tender smile she took his face into her hands as his fell to her hips.

“Stop thinking”, she whispered. She pressed a soft kiss on his left cheek, then his right, one on his left brow, one on his nose, and when her lips got to his, he kissed her back hungrily. She snuck her hands under his sweater, then, and they broke away from each other to pull it over his head, only to find their mouths again seconds later. They kissed and kissed and kissed, and his lips were so sweet, his hands so warm and comforting on her aching body. She opened his pants with slightly trembling hands, felt him tug at her panties. Her breath came fast and unsteadily when she let go of him and stood before him, first taking off her nightgown, then her underwear. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest, right onto the ground before his feet. _There, for you_. But it would be okay. He could have it, really.

He watched her with a dark look, one that made her insides squirm. Slowly she straddled him again, hands running down his chest, all the way down, and looked at him gasp as she touched him. With one fast movement he dragged down his pants and briefs far enough do that he was free, and then she felt him hot against the inside of her thigh. She moaned as she felt his fingers between her legs, sliding up and down then grabbing her hips on both sides. They kissed again, long and soft and sighing out of pleasure as he aligned her and then slowly pushed her down onto him. She could hardly breathe. All she wanted was him, him, him.

Breasts against his scarred chest, she grasped his hair and concentrated on him filling her, stretching her perfectly, so hot and hard and throbbing for her. They broke away, just feeling one another, building a steady rhythm. She felt his warm breath ghosting over her lips, only inches away, and pressed her eyelids together, so hard that a flickering pattern appeared before her inner eye. They were both moaning quietly, relishing the intimacy they hadn’t had in a long time, trying to delay it a little longer but knowing that they couldn’t. She felt him grab her hips harder, forcing her to move faster, and she obeyed, kissing him more wanting than ever. Their kisses were sloppy and wet now but she didn’t care. All she knew was how good he felt inside of her, how good she felt wrapped up with him, around him. She moaned as he moved a hand between them, finding that little spot at her centre, and she could feel the knot inside her trying to untangle. Sweaty skin on sweaty skin, fingers brushing through hair, eyelids fluttering open. They looked at each other, full of want and need and affection, and then he moaned loudly and she felt him shuddering underneath her. The sensation of him reaching his peak, seeing his lovely face all relaxed, now a warm satisfied smile on it, was enough to finish her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck as she came, pulling him close, pressing their bodies together.

He laid a hand on the back of her head, and held her. When she looked up, all tired and exhausted and sweaty, he pushed back the hair off her forehead and kissed the corner of her mouth, just as she had done before. They chuckled against each other, and she felt his fingers trace her spine.

“You smell so nice”, she murmured against him and laid her head on his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Likewise”, he answered quietly. He felt so nice she didn’t want to let go of him but at the same time her eyelids were growing heavier and heavier. They stayed like that for a little while longer, with him still inside her, unable to separate.

“I really am tired now”, he said then, caressing her back soothingly. She looked up, eyes flashing at him.

“I thought this was a much better remedy for sleeplessness than reading, too.”

He laughed. She felt her heart jump.

“Maybe we should go to bed then”, he said, shifting underneath her, “you’re welcome to stay in my bed. Unless you fear things will get too wild.”

She grinned and raised her eyebrows.

“Wilder than this?”

He kissed her, sudden but soft. She felt herself sinking into him, once again. When they broke apart, she noticed the candles had almost all extinguished. Soon, Sirius and Harry would get home. Still, she had a feeling she would sleep well that night.


	2. After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at first this was supposed to be a one shot but I couldn't leave it at that. Alas, here is something between a full story and a one shot. We'll see where it goes.

She was sitting in her room, on the floor, leaning against the bed with a book on her knees. The wood was hard against her back and her legs were beginning to feel numb but she just couldn’t convince herself to move into a more comfortable position. The essay on medieval potions had to be done until midnight and if she didn’t concentrate now, she’d never finish in time. But she couldn’t concentrate. She sighed and took a sip of her lukewarm tea.

The problem, she figured, was that she couldn’t even put the finger on the problem. If she moved to her comfortable bed, she might just fall asleep on it. If she moved to her desk, she’d have to spend her evening cleaning it first. If she went to sit in the library-

She shook her head.

The library was why she couldn’t get this darn essay done. The library and the sofa and all the memories tied to it. Remus, sitting there. Remus, moaning. Remus, inside her. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks as her thoughts drifted further away from her subject. She couldn’t even pass the library without thinking of him. Or without feeling this terrible pit in her stomach.

It had been more than a week since their encounter in the library. Since she’d spent the night in his bed. Since they’d last spoken. The morning after she’d woken to an empty bed.

At first she didn’t realize, wondered why her covers were suddenly grey instead of the flowery pattern they always had, or why they felt so fuzzy and soft instead of a smooth cotton. Then she saw the pictures on the walls, framed and golden and absolutely not the postcards she’d put up in her room. At last, she turned, wrapping the blanket around her naked body, and realized that the other half of the heavy wooden bed was empty.

Of course he’s gone, she’d thought. He’s getting ready for the night. He must feel terrible. She didn’t see him that day, or the days after. He stayed in bed, locked inside his room. They all knew to better leave him alone when he was tired and aching. She’d had to go to university and take care of a few matters now that the semester came to an end. When she came home that night, it must have been four days after they’d slept together, he was standing in the hallway. He looked very tired, shadows under his eyes, hair messy.

She was unsure how to react, what to do. Was there something between them now? Should they talk about it, or had too much time passed already? Apparently, he had already decided. When she asked him how he felt, he shrugged. Without looking at her, he passed her and left the house. She’d felt so perplexed that she stood there for a couple of minutes to process. Had he just ignored her? Was he regretting what they’d done?

Then she felt anger overcome her. Why did he have to be so immature about it? Couldn’t he at least tell her that he thought it’d been a mistake? She knew that they’d both been carried away by their feelings and the late night vulnerability that so often accompanied them. What the hell gave him the right to treat her that way?

The questions kept floating around in her head, demanding all of her attention.

The rest of the week he’d been successfully avoiding her. She’d never see him in the kitchen or around the house. She didn’t dare to put up the effort and walk about the house to see where he was hiding. Or better even, to knock on his door. They were like children. She knew that he knew. But she also knew that Remus sometimes couldn’t help himself. Like that time he got in a fight with Harry over whether or not he should take the job as a consultant at St. Mungo’s. Sometimes he was reckless. Sometimes he didn’t think. Unfortunately, that didn’t change that they were not talking because of him avoiding her.

She rubbed her eyes and put the book next to her. She was getting nowhere with this. Maybe a snack and some actually hot tea would do her good.

The house was quiet. Sirius was always out and about, hating to be alone all the time, and Harry was probably with Ginny. She crept down the stairs to the kitchen, careful not to startle the portrait of Mrs. Black. The tiles were cold under her bare feet and she hurried to get a sandwich done as she put on the kettle. Lettuce, tomato, mustard, she mumbled to herself. She was about to get a knife when she saw a shadow move in the corner of her eyes. They both jumped at the same moment.

“Merlin! Didn’t you hear me? What are you doing sneaking around the house like this?”

The words came out before she remembered they weren’t talking. He was about to turn around, obviously startled that he’d run into her and his careful avoidance hadn’t worked out.

“I’ll be gone in a second, Remus, so you won’t have to put up with my existence or whatever it is that’s bothering you about me any longer,” she snapped.

That had obviously hit a nerve. He stopped, and turned back around.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said slowly, and she remembered that he’d said those exact words that night a week ago. Annoyed, she started to assemble her sandwich while spreading way too much mustard on it.

“Of course _I_ am ridiculous now. Because it’s been me ignoring you and sneaking around the house like a darn ninja to make sure not to even come near you.”

He was pressing his teeth together, tensing his jaw. His brows were furrowed and he crossed his arms.

“You could’ve just told me that you didn’t want to sleep with me again. Would have been much easier, too. Not so much sneaking and hiding. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

She stopped now, looking first at her finished sandwich, then at him. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the wall. The kettle started whistling and she poured herself a cup.

“Well,” she said finally, grabbing her plate, “Apparently we don’t have a friendship after all. I’ll just go back to my room and let you live your life in peace.”

He looked up and sighed.

“It’s not-,“ he started, but stopped immediately. He was standing next to counter now, leaning against it, hands in his pockets. “We _are_ friends. We shouldn’t let one mistake get between us.”

She put her plate back down again and shook her head.

“You really make no sense, Remus. Sorry to say this, but- you’re the one who’s been ignoring me! Nobody said that this one time would come between us! You decided it for us and it’s already gotten between us because you made it come between us! And now you’re calling it a mistake- “

He rubbed his eyes furiously.

“No, not a mistake, I- I don’t know, you shouldn’t be involved with someone like me-“

“Now _you’re_ being ridiculous,” she interrupted him. They looked at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry”, he said then. He looked to the ground, beaten, ready to accept whatever was to come.

“I didn’t want to ignore you but I didn’t know what else to do.”

She sighed.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because-“, he straightened and leaned back against the counter, and ran his fingers through his hair, “I- I like you and I felt bad for, you know-“

She furrowed her brows.

“You felt bad for having sex with me? I had the impression we both enjoyed it very much.”

He shook his head desperately.

“I did, believe me I did, but you’re such a bight young witch and I’m just an old ex-professor, you shouldn’t…”

He stopped, looking at her. They didn’t say anything for a moment.

“You’re deciding again”, she said then, “you’re deciding that I’m too young to sleep with you.”

She took a step forward, observing his serious, scarred face.

“I like you too, Remus. Please stop overthinking everything, like you always do. I mean, if I completely misunderstood now and you’re just not into me, just ignore everything I said, but if not-“

He gave her a little smile and she felt relief flowing through her body.

“I thought it was nice sharing my bed with you. It is too big anyways.”

She laughed.

“There, that’s a start. I think we should talk more, you know, words and meaning.”

She stopped for a moment, then added: “I thought it was nice to stay in your bed, too. I also liked kissing your mouth.”

She felt her heart race in her chest. He stared at her, and in a second they had found each other, lips on lips, hands roaming over too many layers of clothing. They pressed against each other, held each other, kissing and kissing and kissing. She had to stand on her toes to reach his neck. Smiling, she pressed kisses on his cheek.

“Please promise me that you won’t ignore me again, though.”

He stopped and looked her in the eyes.

“I promise,” he said, and started kissing her neck.

“Good”, she mumbled, “I was starting to feel like I have a transmittable deadly disease.”

Again, he stopped and drew back to look at her.

“Now you know how I feel all the time.”

She froze. “Oh god, Remus, I didn’t mean-“

He laughed. “It’s all good. Let’s get you upstairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and stay tuned for the next part that is definitely to come!


	3. Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been thinking about where I wanted to go with this story and apart from the fact that I am not quite sure where it will end up, I wanted to tell you that there is going to be a lot of tropes. And by that I mean probably all of them. Please don't expect an elaborate, complex storyline because this story is probably only going to be about the relationship between Remus and OC- probably not even a tiny little storyline on the side. If you have any ideas, suggestions or criticism, please let me know!

It was chilly in his room, probably because he had forgotten to light the fire. She followed him, holding his hand, rough and calloused fingertips holding on to hers, and felt her heart jump in her chest. Around him she felt so warm that she didn’t even notice at first that the fire was out.  
They stopped in the front of the bed, looking at each other a little awkwardly. He looked sheepishly down at her, smiling a half-smile. Their hands were still interlocked, and she moved her fingers to his underarm, grasping the rough texture of his tweed blazer, while staring up at him.  
“Are you having second thoughts?”, she asked, moving closer.  
His gaze moved to the fireplace.  
“I always forget to… ,” he muttered, letting go of her and taking out his wand to light a fire. They were silent for a moment.  
Then he sighed and took a step toward her, brushing a piece of stray hair out of her face and resting his hand on her neck, caressing it with his thumb. She lightly leaned into his touch.  
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”, he said slowly, “You are so lovely and I can’t help but feel that I’ve somehow tricked you into this and you’re going to wake up and regret it.”  
She raised her eyebrows.  
“I didn’t regret it the last time, Remus. And you’re also quite lovely, you know.”  
He shook his head slightly and withdrew his hand. Immediately she missed the warmth of his touch.  
“We both know that isn’t quite true for an old werewolf like me-“  
“Oh hush”, she interrupted him, “can we talk about this another time? I would really like to kiss your old werewolf lips now.”  
He chuckled. She moved closer, running her hand up his chest and slowly pressing her lips against his. He smelled musky and he felt warm and she put her hands around his neck as he put his around her waist and pressed her against him.  
Their kisses were slow and soft, savouring the sweetness of the intimacy they craved. She opened his blazer, pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. He was still holding her, hands roaming over her back, keeping her close. Then their mouths opened, tongues against tongues, heated breaths filling the room. He reached for the zipper on her dress, pulled it down and began undressing her as she unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor.  
Putting her arms around his waist she pulled him with her to the bed and let herself fall onto it, dragging him with her. Now he was on top, still fighting with her long-sleeved dress, and she chuckled and took it off quickly as they moved further onto the mattress.  
Then his hands were on her naked skin, peeling off her bra. She pressed her lips onto his bearded cheek, moved to his ear and nibbled on his earlobe. His body on top of her felt so comforting, so safe, and she reached between his legs, let her fingers glide over the thin boxers he wore, and she heard him moan.  
He found her lips instantly, hands on her hips reaching for her panties, pulling them down while her fingers did the same with his boxers. He stopped then, kissed her cheek sweetly, looked her in the eyes. They were both breathing heavily, her face was hot and flushed. She wanted him so badly she was sure he could hear her body aching for him.  
Slowly he reached down and guided himself into her. They kissed, deeply and longingly, as he sank further into her and stretched her perfectly. She couldn’t stop herself from moaning, he felt so good, so good, so good, and lust hazed her thoughts and let them drift away. Never had she wanted someone as bad as she wanted him now, she thought, and sucked on his lower lip. They began to move together, him in and out, slowly at first. She moved her hips with him, responding to his body, letting her fingertips glide over the numerous scars on his back.  
When he increased his rhythm, she thought she would explode. He hit that one spot inside her and she moaned loudly, felt his lips on her jawline, his hand on her breast, caressing her nipple. He was breathing heavily, burying his face inside her neck as he went faster, sank deeper, and she put her legs around his, allowing him a new angle. He was coming, she felt it, felt his heart race in his chest, and at the same time she felt her own climax built up inside her. If she had more self-control, maybe she would’ve slowed down by now to savour this more, to let it last longer, but she wanted to come so badly, wanted him to come inside her, to see his face when he did.  
It didn’t take long until he shuddered, sinking into her with one final thrust and allowing her to come as well. His mouth hovered over hers for a second, feeling their exhausted breaths, before they melted together. They kissed for what felt like a really long time, coming down from the heights they had reached together. Finally, their kisses turned into little pecks, and he rolled to the side.  
“Now I’m cold”, she pouted, “you were such a nice blanket.”  
He laughed and ran his hands over his face.  
“And you were a nice mattress, but we can’t all have what we want, can we?”  
He grasped the covers from at the end of the bed and put them over them. She snuggled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he laid his arm around her. It was getting dark outside, the wan light of the sunset flowing into the room. She ran her fingertips over his collarbones, thinking about her essay waiting on the floor of her room.  
There was no hope getting the essay done by midnight, she decided finally. She might as well stay here.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic for this fandom. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


End file.
